Too Close for Comfort
by AstraPerAspera
Summary: Sam's out of commission with a broken leg following the events of Trio. Sam/Jack ship.


Too Close for Comfort

by 

AstraPerAspera

_A/N: I swear. I was under the influence of an alien virus when I wrote this. That's my story and I'm sticking to it._

"You broke _what_?"

Sam winced a little as Jack's voice rose a few decibels louder. She glanced out the door of her office to the control room to make sure none of the techs on duty had heard. They were maintaining an open wormhole as part of the daily data dump back to the SGC. The connection wouldn't last much longer and she wanted to make the most of the face time she had with Jack. Finding him at the SGC had been an unexpected and delightful surprise that had made her stomach do that strange flip it always did when she saw him after a long period of separation. It was an oddly delightful sensation…part nerves, part sheer joy when, a nanosecond later, her brain would remind her that it really was okay to think of him in ways she had so carefully avoided for far too many years—ways that resulted in a whole lot of other body parts suddenly feeling delightfully warm and pleasant sensations as well….

Whoa. Not what she needed to be thinking about right this minute. She could feel the heat creeping into her face and prayed she was sufficiently removed from the sightline of Chuck in the control room so that he wouldn't have to wonder why his CO had suddenly turned as red as a beet. It really _was_ possible for her to think about Jack without having those kinds of feelings emerge. After all, she'd had nearly nine years of experience in suppressing them. But for some reason, the way he was going on about her broken leg and the concern that was written all over his incredibly rugged, handsome face was just so damned…sexy. She found herself grinning, the longer he scolded. 

Maybe the pain-meds Keller had given her were affecting her ability to concentrate. Technically she was relieved of duty for a few days, but the thought of staying cooped up in her quarters…alone…hadn't been very inviting. Which was why she was here. And staring at Jack's neck. She could remember the first time she'd found his neck so…appealing. Some nameless planet—P3X something, something, something…some unremarkable mission…she'd looked at him sitting by the campfire and caught his head turned, revealing that long and oh-so-luscious stretch of muscle and jaw. She'd stared then too. And a helluva lot of other times since, when she thought he wasn't looking. Just looking at it now sent fingers of anticipation dancing down her spine. She so wanted to bury her face in that sensitive spot just below his ear and whisper….

"So help me…McKay and his inept…." Jack was raving. Sam snapped back to the here and now. What was wrong with her, for crying out loud? She was never distracted during debriefings. Well…not _these_ kinds of debriefings, anyway….

The warm flush had returned. She couldn't help it. And Jack, God bless him, was still ragging on McKay. Sam felt compelled to set the record straight, as much as she would have loved to hear Jack's on-going tirade about Rodney. Still…what had happened to her had not been McKay's fault. 

"Actually…" she interrupted, with great effort. "It was Jennifer who came up with the idea for making the bridge." Her words brought Jack's commentary to a grinding halt as he processed that tidbit of information. Sam saw one eyebrow twitch. The one with the scar. The scar she loved to run her finger gently across in the dark when he was asleep, reveling in the weight of his head against her bare….

The temperature in her office seemed to have risen another few degrees. Yeah. Definitely the pain meds…it had to be…because really, at this moment, what she wanted more than anything else was to…

"Keller? The doc? What…she doesn't have enough to do--she has to go and _create_ patients?"

"Um…." Sam stammered. She'd lost track of the conversation for a moment as she'd envisioned the intricacies and opportunities wearing a cast presented should she decide she needed to go home for a few weeks to recoup. Jack was pretty agile…and he always liked a challenge….

"Carter?"

Jack's unexpected use of her last name brought her back again. Damnit! She needed to concentrate. She focused on Jack's face again and surmised that his presence at the SGC must have been for some high-level meeting. He was, she noticed, wearing his dress blues. The clothes he hated. The clothes she could hardly resist him in because he looked just so damned hot--especially now with his silver hair…and even more especially when he was wearing his lid and sunglasses so that the only way she could even guess what he might be thinking was by the way his lips curved upward in his trademark insubordinate smirk. His lips, that right now she wished were working their way ever so tantalizingly slowly down from her neck to…

"Carter!"

Crap! She had to stop this. Stop it right now. Because if she didn't then, cast or no, she'd go limping through that wormhole right back to the SGC—and propriety be damned, she'd…they'd…right in front of…. Just the thought of it had her breath coming in short, jagged gasps….

Jack must have noticed.

"Hey…you okay?"

No. She was definitely not okay. Or…actually, she was…she was far _too_ okay…which was precisely the problem. 

"I…uh…," she closed her eyes and gave her head a slight shake to try and clear it. "Maybe my pain meds have kicked in a little stronger than I expected."

She could see Jack study her for a couple of seconds before a bemused look crossed his face.

"So…feeling pretty good, huh?"

"Let's just say I'd be feeling a whole lot better if we were in the same galaxy. Not to mention the same room."

She couldn't believe she'd said that. Not here! Not while she was working…okay…she wasn't officially working…but still….

The fact that a huge grin had spread over Jack's face wasn't helping one bit.

"Don't…don't you dare say a word!" she warned him. The grin only broadened.

"Sam without inhibitions. Now that I'd _love_ to see…"

_And I'd love to show you…._

Sam all but clamped a hand over her mouth. Had she actually said it aloud or only thought it? Seeing how Jack's grin remained unchanged, she concluded it had only been in her thoughts. Thank goodness. All communications between Atlantis and the SGC were recorded. Having _that_ on the record would have been entirely….

"You know…the report said Keller was out of commission too…maybe it would be better if you came back to the SGC for a once-over by Lam," Jack suggested wickedly. "I could meet you at Midway…escort you back, what with the leg and all…."

Her mind flashed to the cramped quarters on Midway…how there was barely room to turn around in the small sleeping spaces. How incredibly delightful it would be to feel Jack's warm body pressed against her in such a tight space, wedged into the single bunk, needing to keep silent lest Bill Lee or that Kavanaugh guy or one of the marines on duty might hear….

"I…I don't think that would be a good idea…" she stammered raggedly, in spite of the fact that her body was doing its best to convince her otherwise. Jack wasn't helping.

"You sure? I could make it an order, you know…."

Instead of coming through the tinny speaker on the laptop, Jack's voice seemed to fill the room. She looked up, startled. He was standing right in front of her, that damned, sexy smug grin on his face.

"How…?" her mind raced but words would not come out. This wasn't right—was it? How could be at the SGC—and then suddenly here? "That's…you can't…." Her mind latched onto the only thing she knew for certain. "But it's an out-going wormhole!" 

She was on her feet…walking around the desk to where he stood, now dressed in an incongruous bright yellow shirt and with the black watch cap she hadn't seen him wear in years. It vaguely occurred to her that her leg, which had been throbbing in its cast just a while ago, was pain-free and unencumbered. 

"What are you doing?" she scolded, sotto voce. A glance over Jack's shoulder revealed a fair amount of surreptitious ogling by the staff in the control room. "Why are you here?"

"So I can do this," he replied, cupping her face in his hands and bringing his lips to hers. A half-second of shock prevented her from responding instantly, but as the heat from his lips and the warmth of his hands ignited her skin, the shock dissolved into unadulterated physical pleasure. Any thought of protest or the extreme illogic of his presence melted away. It didn't matter how he was here, or why he was here, or even if the whole damn base now finally knew. All that meant nothing. There was only Jack, and the delight of his lips and the inferno of passion that was spreading through her with each breathless moment.

Not bothering to stifle the moan, she kissed him back.

Suddenly gravity seemed to leave her. She was falling…no…not falling…Jack was taking her in his arms and sweeping her backwards…her arms went instinctively around his neck…her fingers sought the short hair that fringed from the bottom of the cap. She pulled him closer to her, aching with the desire that his kiss had unleashed, feverishly aware of the way he tasted and smelled, reveling in the touch of his hand against her back, her side, her heaving.…

"Colonel…Colonel?…Colonel!"

Jack shattered into a million pieces and vanished. She was falling…falling…down into nothingness. Down into darkness. She braced herself for the bone shattering impact that she knew was about to come.

It never came.

Instead, an insistent hand was shaking her arm…the arm that moments ago had been so deliciously wrapped around Jack's neck…

Sam opened her eyes.

"Colonel…Sam…hey, there…." 

She blinked and realized she was looking into the obviously relieved face of Jennifer Keller. It was her bandaged hand that still rested on Sam's arm.

"What…?" mumbled Sam, trying to make the pieces fit. She'd just been in her office but now she was here…in the mine…no. Not in the mine. The rest of the room made itself apparent to her…she was in her quarters. She was in Atlantis. Blinking again to bring the rest of it into focus, she saw over Keller's shoulder the concerned face of John Sheppard standing back by the door, an apologetic look on his face.

"Easy," Keller said as Sam tried to sit up. The unaccustomed extra weight on her leg told her that the cast was still there. With Keller's help she managed to swing it around and sit on the edge of the bed.

"Colonel Sheppard has been trying to reach you on the com," the doctor explained. "When you didn't answer he became…well…concerned."

Sam tried to throw John a grateful smile but she was afraid it came out more as a grimace. 

"Sorry, Colonel…I wouldn't have bothered you…," he apologized. "It's just that you left a standing order that you wanted to be in the room whenever the IOA made contact, and they're due for that call-in in about twenty minutes."

"No…right…thank you…," she glanced at Keller. "I guess those pain meds were stronger than I thought."

Keller looked suspiciously guilty as she glanced over her shoulder at Sheppard. He seemed to take it as his cue. 

"Well…I'll just…you know…meet you in the briefing room…." his voice trailed off as he backed out the open door and vanished. It closed with a swish behind him.

"What did you give me?" Sam asked, shaking her head to try to rid it of any remaining cobwebs. The side of Keller's mouth twisted into a half smile.

"Whatever it took to put you down for a good long time. You are as stubborn a patient as your record says you are." 

"Has Lam been tattling on me?" Sam asked, struggling to get to her feet. God, she hated this impaired mobility. She'd rather be flat out on a gurney than hobbling around on one leg.

"Dr. Lam, _and_ Dr. Warner, _and_ Dr. Fraiser…." Jennifer's voice trailed off, as if she might have realized she'd touched a wound. She had, but Sam had long ago learned not to let it show.

"Anyway…after what we went through…well, that is, mostly after what _you_ went through…I thought you needed the rest. So yeah…it was something of a horse pill."

"Thanks," replied Sam dryly. She picked up the crutches that Keller was holding out for her and worked her way to the dresser. If the IOA was calling, she couldn't be in civvies.

"Do you need any help?" Keller offered, trailing in Sam's wake as if not certain she had yet mastered the crutches.

"I'm good…thanks." She was mostly recovered, but she still felt like she needed a few moments. The dream had been incredibly real as had it's effect on her. It would take a bit of time for those…sensations…to fade away. Not only that, but she had the uneasy, if completely irrational, feeling that Keller and Sheppard just had walked in on her and Jack during a way too private moment. Sam felt the color come to her face just thinking about it.

"Hey…is this the guy?"

Keller had picked Jack's picture up off the bureau.

Crap. 

"Guy?" she answered vaguely, pretending to rummage through a drawer and praying Keller wouldn't pursue it. 

Not likely.

"Yeah…the guy in Washington. The one you were telling me about."

"Uh…yeah." She glanced at the picture and tried to sound nonchalant. The light in her quarters was dim. Maybe she wouldn't recognize him. It was an old picture after all. 

"Doesn't look like he's ready to retire," Keller remarked. Sam winced. She had given out way too much information down in that pit. She should have picked Jennifer for the girl-talk type.

"That was taken a while ago," Sam found herself admitting. She hoped that would end it and Keller would move on.

No such luck.

"You know…he kinda looks familiar. Are you sure I wouldn't know him?"

Sam managed a weak smile.

"Well…you know what they say…it's a small world." She held up the clothes she'd been looking for, hoping Keller would take the hint. It took a few heartbeats, but she finally did. 

"I'll just…," the doctor indicated the door. Sam nodded and tried to return Keller's smile as she left. Only when the door slid shut behind her did she finally collapse into a nearby chair. 

She eyed Jack's picture. Keller had set it back down slightly askew from how Sam usually kept it. She wondered if she should put it away. Her private quarters had always been just that…private. Not since the day she'd moved in had anyone entered her personal space. It was her sanctuary, her place apart from the rest of Atlantis…and from the ever-present rigors of command. It was where she came when she wanted to be alone with her thoughts and her longings and her loneliness. The place where she could be with Jack…with his picture…with his emails…with her memories of their too brief time and with the promise of what lay ahead. It wasn't home, but it was as close as she was going to come, at least for a while longer.

Now it felt…invaded. Keller's presence…no matter how well-intended, had brought in the outside world. It was no longer a safe haven, merely an extension of where she could be reached, anytime, day or night. She supposed she'd been naïve to think that she could have kept everyone out indefinitely. 

Reaching over she picked up Jack's picture and ran her hand over his face. The yearnings from her dream had ebbed and she was left with the dull melancholy ache she always had when she thought of just how far away from him she really was. While her first inclination was to think that she'd screwed up big time confessing his existence to Keller, even in the vaguest of terms, if she were being completely honest with herself, part of her desperately wanted to confide in someone. As Jack would have said: Freud's slip was indeed showing. Maybe she _had_ wanted Jennifer to ask about him; and maybe she wanted someone to know just what it was she had given up to be here and what it cost her, day in and day out. 

"Suck it up, Sam," she said aloud. But the sound of her own command echoed dully in the high-ceilinged room. She'd sucked it up a long time already. She was getting to the point where enough was enough.

There was hope. Jack had promised: she wouldn't be here forever. Only a few at the Pentagon knew that her status was unaccompanied. That would give her her ticket back when she was ready. Maybe when she had her full year in, she'd put in for that transfer back to the SGC. Jack would retire. They could finally be…normal. Well…as normal as two people could be who, from time to time, had been called upon to do things most people would classify as science fiction. But still. There had to be an endpoint, didn't there? The goa'uld. The replicators. The Ori. The Asurans. The Wraith. She didn't keep a belt with notches on it, but surely someone must be keeping count. She didn't want any medals or commendations—although, admittedly, the bump to Full Bird Colonel had been nice—but maybe, just maybe, her next assignment could be one that didn't require a 24 hour quarantine or a two week hyperspace jump to make it home in time for dinner.

A girl could hope.

Sighing, she reached over and set Jack's picture back in its place. She wouldn't put it away after all. Hiding it wouldn't help. Keller was no dummy. She'd figure it out eventually. And even if she were discreet, word would somehow get out. Before long everyone would know…except maybe Rodney the Clueless.

Yeah. Complicated didn't even begin to cover it. 

Sam looked at her watch. She would be late for the IOA call if she didn't hurry. She hoped by the time she got there the last of Keller's sleeping potion would have completely worn off, since she was still feeling a little vague around the edges. But she wouldn't leave John to the wolves on his own, even though she had an idea he'd manage them pretty well if he had to. Besides, she was determined to prove to anyone with doubts that a little thing like a broken leg wasn't going to put her out of commission.

And neither was a heart that ached for home.


End file.
